Top Stories
New stories you'll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
I'm So Happy You're Staying With Us. Top Story - October 2026.
When Roger gets to a hotel, he likes to unpack right away and iron his shirts so that he's ready for his client meetings. Roger was finishing his last shirt, arranging the sleeve on the hotel's ironing board and bringing the iron down with a satisfying hiss, when the hotel phone rang.
By John R. Godwin4 days ago in Horror
Hazatérés — Homecoming. Top Story - October 2026.
I am in no hurry to get to the library this morning. My current assignment is so exciting that I am already tired just thinking about it: sorting and digitizing a collection of old records that nobody has touched in over fifty years.
By Imola Tóth8 days ago in Horror
Fermi Paradox. Top Story - October 2026.
The rocket arched across the sky. Beyond the horizon’s curve, the railguns of the Athakanizi hummed the death march of the once system-spanning race. Singularity Unit 6X3 stood at its post, watching through electric eyes as the Athakanizi died beneath the second sun followed by a mushroom cloud.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 days ago in Horror
So, You've Just Published a Book. Top Story - October 2026.
It’s actually been about four months since I published my first book, The Gragon. I originally planned on writing this article three months ago, but work got in the way. That’s actually a recurring theme in my life for the last few years. Too much work, not enough time to write. But I do my best to strike when the iron’s hot. Or at least lukewarm.
By Atomic Historian6 days ago in BookClub
A Comedian, Two Bullies, A Detective & A Pianist... 🎭. Top Story - October 2026.
The following microfiction piece that I wrote, entitled "A Comedian, Two Bullies, A Detective & A Pianist," was inspired by uber-fabulous visual artist Annie Lee's beautiful and captivating painting titled My Cup Runneth Over.
By Tiffany Gordon8 days ago in Art
≋R≋a≋i≋n≋ ≋o≋n≋ ≋R≋a≋g≋w≋e≋e≋d≋. Top Story - October 2026.
Pummeled pollen pods Manufacture microscopic minions Proliferating prodigiously Blown by blustering breezes Repeatedly riding respiration Swiftly saturating sinus Layering laboring lungs Itchy irritation imbues Massive mucus manufacturing Creating chaotic coughing Strong spontaneous sneezing Suffocation stifling sleep Disposition deteriorates dangerously
By Dana Crandell9 days ago in Poets
The Social Reckoning (2026). Top Story - October 2026.
I am a fan of Aaron Sorkin. I even watched Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Despite it being panned by a number of comedy writers and only lasting one season, I liked it. Last year I went to see his adaptation of To Kill a Mocking Bird in the theatre and wrote about its peculiar ability to work as both an historical piece and a reflection of our times. (Read that here ).
By Rachel Robbins6 days ago in Geeks
A Poem for Daji. Top Story - October 2026.
Joys are weighed by burdens lifted a train ride in a tote bag, a clack of claws on the hardwood, a black mouth upturned in waiting for sweet potato snacks. Severe loyalty in the shape of a tiny sweat bean jubilation dances in the form of a twisted tail pushing through the breeze of a park, weaving through friends and the short time left. Love knows nothing more than the souls that graze beside us in a decade of chosen family, from pound to urn We stand beside you in blindness, slow walks that were once a sprint, and in late-night worries where we put our cheek to your nose and wait for the evidence of life. Our love for you ebbs through the anxiety that we knew would come on that day you were adopted, tiny and vulnerable from the pound on the upper side where our lives were changed forever by your short existence.
By Kera Hollow10 days ago in Poets
Passing Storms. Top Story - October 2026.
I haven’t been doing so good recently. Some things happened that specifically touched all my mental health struggles in the worst possible way. I’m not being hyperbolic when I say it's been one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had.
By I. D. Reeves9 days ago in Writers
Dead Screen. Top Story - October 2026.
The living room looked exactly as it always did. There was no hint that someone had died just feet away, along the narrow hallway, in the galley kitchen. I felt a sense of trespassing - trespassing on my late father’s space behind his back, and on my own past, as this house had been my home for nearly twenty years. Of course, I’d visited in the past four decades, but this was the first time I’d let myself in and stood alone amongst the furniture and clutter, much of which had been part of my childhood — the large mirror with a bamboo frame above the mantlepiece; a set of china dogs, each representing a different breed lined up on the window ledge; and in the centre of the floor, a leather pouf that hadn’t been in vogue for at least half a century.
By Matthew Batham8 days ago in Horror
3 teacups. Top Story - October 2026.
You never thought you’d be able to juggle safety and absurdity so well, yet here you are. You’re looking at your wife, her face flushed, her hair a mess from an abrupt, sudden wake up call in the middle of the night. All she wanted was tea.
By Melissa Ingoldsby7 days ago in Fiction
